


A Bit of Bliss

by thedropoutandthejunkie (elenajames)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Cunnilingus, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-21
Updated: 2015-01-21
Packaged: 2018-03-08 11:03:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3206819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elenajames/pseuds/thedropoutandthejunkie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean and Lisa have a little fun while Ben's out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Bit of Bliss

**Author's Note:**

> Prompted by kevstielkisses, who wanted Dean performing cunnilingus on someone. There def needs to be more of this in the world.

Lisa feels exposed to the cool air of the living room. There’s a shivery sense of pleasure that runs through her, a dirty thrill to be out here in the open. The only curtain Dean closed in the entire place was the big bay one, before he stripped her slowly, teasing his fingers over every bit of skin he could reach. When he had pulled her onto his lap, she was certain she’d end up riding him; she’d gotten her hands on his fly when he tugged them away. Instead, he stood and carefully deposited her on the armchair. 

"Ready?" he murmurs, waiting for her to nod before pressing a kiss to her lips before sliding down to the floor. Big hands slip under her, pulling her close to the edge and sliding her legs up so her knees are hooked over the soft arms of the recliner.

Dean has leaned up again to stroke down her torso, rolling her nipples between his fingers, and pressing soft kisses down her belly. When his hands slip back under her, they grip her hips to hold her down. Immediately, she tries to rock up and he laughs softly, warm air ghosting over the bare skin of her thigh. It’s followed immediately by a firm kiss, and then a trail of them brushed down one thigh and up the other. 

It’s only then that he settles down further, skimming his mouth over the damp skin of her pussy, dry lips at first and then teasing traces of tongue. Gently, he pushes his tongue in just a bit deeper and laps gently along the inside of each lip. Lisa tenses a little as he slides his tongue upward, but sighs and sinks back down when he skims by her clit, teasing just above it instead. 

Dean laps slowly, steadily, swirling his tongue through her wetness and around her clit. He moans low when one of her hand slides down to grip his hair, green eyes flicking up to meet hers over the span of her belly. Lisa loosens her grip and strokes her fingers through his hair instead, coaxing him along with little tugs and moans when his slow and steady edges toward not enough.

Lisa gasps when he pushes two fingers into her, setting a pace that matches the swirls and laps of his tongue. She rocks her hips a little, taking advantage of his loosened hold on her hips, and Dean hums a pleased sound into her. He speeds up steadily, soft grunts and moans escaping him as his head bobs between her legs. Lisa shoves the knuckles on one hand up against her mouth to muffle her own sounds, the habit of being quiet deeply ingrained even though no one else is around. 

"Dean, please," she pants eventually, drawn up so close to coming that it is nearly maddening. She tosses her head back, and her eyes clench shut tight as she rides the pleasure through. A shocked cry tears from her throat when Dean flicks his tongue directly over her clit, and the sharp sensation makes her hips jerk. After that, he does it every couple of strokes, alternating them with gentle sucks over it. Lisa’s legs pull in, resting on his back and shoulders as her body tightens and rocks as she comes, her cries stifled into whimpers as she bites down on her lip. 

Dean slows his strokes a little, mindful of how sensitive she is as he eases her down. He slips his fingers out when her legs drop from his shoulders, sucking them clean. “Good?” he asks with a soft smile, and Lisa just laughs, flopping one arm over her eyes for a moment. 

"Good," she agrees, standing up from the chair and gathering her clothes from the floor.

"You’re not getting dressed?" Dean asks in confusion when she heads for the door.

"Nope," Lisa grins, balling up the fabric in one hand. "Shower. Race you." And with that she darts up the stairs, laughing louder when she hears the clomp of Dean’s boots behind her.


End file.
